


Songs You Know by Heart: More Than Words

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before he is set to leave Cascade, Blair reflects over his choice and his relationship with Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs You Know by Heart: More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Pumpkin, saraid, Heather, and Sue for beta reading. It was their kind words that convinced me to post this. All errors are mine since they were probably corrected at some point, but were accidentally overlooked as I made corrections. This story is dedicated to RT for showing me just how beautiful and loving a platonic friendship can be. 

## Songs You Know by Heart: More Than Words

by JR

Author's disclaimer: Jim, Blair, Simon, and everyone else you recognize are own by UPN and Pet Fly Productions without their permission. Everybody else mentioned here is a figment of my imagination. More Than Words by Extreme also used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it. 

* * *

Everything was set; all the boxes were taped, the car was loaded; and in eight more hours, the loft would no longer be Blair Sandburg's home. The week of preparations had flown by and now that everything was ready, the anthropologist was unsure of what to do with himself. Oh, he knew that he should go to sleep so he would be rested for the long drive that lay ahead of him, but Blair knew instinctively that sleep would be a long time in coming tonight. Each sight of his now empty room had only increased his level of melancholy. 

Blair crossed the living room and stood in front of the closed glass doors leading to the balcony. Fall had come early this year; the cold night air already leaving white frost on the ground, and forcing Blair to layer his clothing against the chill. Sighing softly to himself, he only hoped that the temperature in Virginia would be more to his liking than Washington's had been. Gods, but he hated the cold. 

As he looked out over the bay, Blair caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. The ghostly image was reflected by the halogen floor lamp in the corner that he had dimmed when Jim went to bed. The detective was exhausted from a combination of the going away party that had been thrown in the loft the night before and a difficult bust earlier that afternoon. A major drug dealer had led Jim in a two mile run through downtown. He had returned home to find a farewell dinner of Blair's infamous chili and a televised baseball game waiting for him. Feeling generous, Jim relaxed house rule 37, no food in the living room, so they could watch the Mariners play as they ate. 

Sometime in the seventh inning the older man had finally begun to nod off on the couch. The Sentinel had been apologetic about his exhaustion, wanting to spend as much time as possible with his Guide before they were separated, but Blair had understood and sent his roommate to bed three hours ago. Even the radio playing softly in the background had not been enough to disturb his much needed sleep. 

In deference to his Sentinel's enhanced hearing, Blair had bypassed his normal alternative station in favor one that played a softer, adult contemporary music. A new song began, one that Blair hadn't heard in awhile. The melody brought back memories as he recalled the first time the words had significance for him. 

//Saying 'I love you' is not the words I want to hear from you,  
It's not that I want to, not to say, but if you only knew  
How easy it would be to show me how you feel  
More than words, is all you have to do to make it real  
Then you wouldn't have to say, that you love me  
Cause I'd already know...// 

* * *

**SIX MONTHS EARLIER**

It was the big day. It was official. Blair Sandburg, Ph.D.. After three years of intensively studying a real live Sentinel, Blair had realized that it was time to wrap up his dissertation. It had taken three months to organize, write, double check, and proof. In the end, the information he had gathered had been more than enough to submit and defend. Best of all, he had never needed to reveal Jim's identity. 

When Blair crossed the stage, it was to a hail of applause, shouts, and air horns. Although many of the administrators thought it was in poor taste, anyone in the auditorium who knew Blair was aware that he deserved the cheering send-up. Especially after all of the trials he had faced in the past three years. 

Naomi was there, in between trips to discover even more of the world. She was taken aback by the number of police officers that had come out to congratulate her son. She beamed with pride as she spotted Blair in the line of multicolored robed figures. 

Most of the Major Crimes division had requested this day off, leaving only a skeleton crew to keep the criminals of Cascade at bay. They were lead by Joel Taggert, one of the first people at the station to accept Blair. Although he was not officially part of the Major Crimes team, the Bomb Squadron Captain worked closely with the unit. At his command, they scurried to get the air horns they had hidden in their jackets ready for Blair's big moment. 

Surprisingly, there were a number of cops from different departments here as well, people whose path's had crossed Blair's. As was his nature, he had done his best to help whenever and wherever he could. Many of those he had aided had not forgotten his assistance. In the course of the time Blair had spent as an observer, he had overcome most of the hostility he had faced when he first began working with Jim. Some of the same officers that had three years ago told him to his face that he didn't deserve to be Ellison's partner due to his appearance or his lack of training now rose and applauded as his name was called. The anthropologist had always been popular with his undergraduate students. Blair often used stories of his own travels rather than relying on textbooks to keep his lectures interesting. He was friendly with his students; caring of their welfare; and most importantly, he was a fair grader. Often, his classes were the first to be filled based on word of mouth alone. Many of his former students were graduating today, and they added their own shouts and whistles to the roar as he began his walk across the stage. 

Blair glanced up to where his 'support' group sat. Simon was chomping on an unlit cigar, grinning broadly while he applauded. Next to the Captain his son, Darryl, put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. With his free hand, the teenager waved wildly. 

A few seats down, Steven Ellison stood with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sounds of his shouts. Nobody had been more surprised than Blair when his roommate's brother had appeared at his office a month after the racetrack fiasco. While relations had slowly been improving between the brother's, Jim still maintained an icy emotional barrier that Steven had been unsure how to overcome. Unaware of his brother's Sentinel abilities, the younger Ellison never understood why the uptight/ex-ranger/cop would share his loft with the free spirited/neo hippie/anthropologist. In fact, he had been quite jealous in the beginning of the relationship between the two, noting how Jim often treated Blair like a younger brother. Biting the bullet, Steven had gone to Blair to ask for help in reaching Jim, and he had received it in abundance. The younger man had put his own insecurities and jealousies aside, going above and beyond the call to help the brothers establish the friendship they now shared. 

It was the figure standing next to the Captain who held Blair's attention. Jim Ellison stood stoically watching his friend, roommate and Guide crossing the stage. Prepared for the explosion of sounds that erupted, Jim had turned down his hearing to prevent being overwhelmed. He didn't want to miss one of the most important events of his Guide's life. The Sentinel was calmly clapping his hands, but Blair could see that it was nowhere near the pace of those that surrounded him. Raising his eyes, the younger man gasped as he saw the paternal look of sheer pride that accompanied the wide smile on Jim's face. As pale blue met deep blue, Jim nodded his head, and Blair instinctively understood the combination of joy, triumph, and love that was directed at him. It didn't take Sentinel sight to see that Jim's eyes were misting over and he felt his own doing the same. The Chancellor smiled at the beaming, teary graduate as he handed over the pseudo-diploma. 

* * *

The rest of the afternoon had passed in a blur that Blair would never be able to recall. The barrage of flashbulbs, handshakes, and well-wishers merged together. Later that night, Jim had thrown an enormous party at the loft. Toasts were given and presents opened while the food and alcohol disappeared at an alarming rate. Every person he talked to made it a point to call him _Doctor_ Sandburg. 

At some point in the evening, Detective Ray Brown had asked to be introduced to Blair's current assistant, a stunning mocha skinned beauty by the name of Karen. The anthropologist had obliged and after a few minutes excused himself to let the pair dance to the slow song that was playing. Blair recognized it from one of Jim's CD's. 

As he listened absent-mindedly to the lyrics, he spotted Jim in the kitchen watching him closely. The odd expression on his face worried him. As Blair made his way through the throngs of people in his living room, he hoped that his partner wasn't in some kind of zone out. It had been months since the Sentinel had the last one, but maybe the noise and the crowd were overwhelming him. Jim's eyes tracked his progress, and when Blair reached him, he didn't acknowledge him. 

"Jim, man, are you okay?" the younger man asked as he placed a hand on the older man's broad shoulder. 

Jim was silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. After a moment's hesitation, the contemplative look melted into the same look of pride he had been sporting most of the day. "Chief...Blair...I just wanted to tell you..." he paused, not quite knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say. 

After three years, Blair knew his Sentinel well enough to easily understand what he was trying to tell him. With a gentle smile, he squeezed the shoulder he was gripping. "It's okay, man. I know," he said simply. 

Jim returned the grin. With an unusual rush of affection for the smaller man, he grabbed Blair into a giant bear hug. They held on tightly for a second, before the embrace broke down into the typical masculine back patting. 

They pulled apart at the sound of Simon's voice. "So _Dr._ Sandburg, what are you planning to do with all your free time?" 

* * *

**PRESENT NIGHT**

//What would you do, if my heart was torn in two// 

He had always like the haunting nature of this song, but tonight it only added to his depression. Blair wrapped his arms around himself as he recalled Simon's question. Certainly he never thought that he would be moving thousand of miles away from the one place he had finally called home. 

* * *

**FOUR MONTHS EARLIER**

After the euphoria of earning his doctorate had worn off, Blair found himself in the same position as many recent graduates -- unemployed. The anthropologist had been hoping to receive an associate professor position at Rainier when Dr. Westin retired at the end of the semester, but the good doctor had decided to hold off for another year. He had mentioned the expected vacancy to Jim at graduation, but had never told him that it was no longer a possibility. Blair had hoped that something at a nearby college would pan out, allowing him to stay where he was. As the weeks went by, the anthropologist did nothing to look for positions outside of a hundred mile radius of Cascade. 

Along with his observer work at the station, he was tutoring on campus. The pay was not even close to the miserly stipend he had earned as a Teaching Assistant. Jim had never charged him rent, but Blair had contributed by buying most of the groceries for the two of them. Now he couldn't even afford to keep that up. Oh how well the Sentinel knew his Guide. Jim had not been ignorant of Blair's financial situation and had begun to buy groceries while the younger man was out tutoring. Although Blair was aware of and grateful for Jim's actions, his pride prevented him from saying anything on the subject. 

It wasn't until the wedding of Ray Brown and Karen Linders that Jim learned of Blair's impending lack of employment. The detective had run into Blair's old department head at the reception, who had asked where the recent graduate was applying. It had taken most of his military training to keep his shock out of his expression, but somehow he had managed to finish the enlightening conversation. Jim had asked a great number of questions about the best course of action for his young friend and he had received a wealth of information about university hiring practices. 

* * *

After the reception, they had returned to the loft. Blair had been anxious to get out of his usher "monkey suit" and made a beeline for his bedroom. Jim had been waiting for him when emerged in sweats, motioning his roommate to join him on the sofa. 

"When were you going to tell me that you don't have a job lined up for the fall, Chief?" he asked softly after the younger man sat down. 

Blair froze. The Sentinel listened as his Guide's heart skipped a beat, then proceeded to do the lambada. "Jim, I was going to tell you..." he drifted off. The older man waited silently for him to continue. "I was hoping that something would come open at the last minute, if not at Rainier, then maybe UW-Cascade, or Cascade Community College. If nothing pans out, then I'll find something to tide me over until the spring semester." The younger man paused, puzzled. "So, like how did you find out, anyway?" 

Finally, Jim spoke. "I'm a detective, remember?" His Guide failed to find the humor in the comment, so he decided to play this straight. "I ran into Dr. Halstrom today. Blair, why haven't you looked outside of Cascade? From what Dr. Halstrom told me, you shouldn't have a hard time finding something. You've published a lot of articles in the past three years. And your Sentinel research is going to be published next month." 

Blair looked away sheepishly, something the detective didn't see all that often. The anthropologist had written several papers on his work at the station. Four of them had been published in various professional anthropology and psychology journals. That coupled with his Sentinel research, field work, and teaching abilities should have been enough to land him a decent offer. However, it did nothing to change the heart of the matter, his desire to remain in Cascade. Yet, he was embarrassed to admit to Jim what his real problem was. 

"Chief?" Jim asked, patiently. 

The Sentinel watched his Guide squirm on the couch. The silence was oppressive as Blair struggled to put his feelings into words without sounding stupid. When he could no longer stand it, he finally admitted the truth, but he still couldn't look Jim in the eye. "Look, Jim. For the past three years, this has been my home, man. Do you realize that this is by far the longest I have stayed _anywhere_ in one place? I like it here. I like living here," he gestured to indicate the loft. "I...I like..." he left the sentence incomplete, hesitant to say what he was really thinking. 

"Go on, Chief," Jim encouraged. 

"I like being your Guide." Blair finally raised his smoky eyes to Jim's pale blues. "I like having you as a best friend. I don't want to lose that," he finished quietly. 

Jim reached forward to place a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Speaking softly, he said, "Blair, two years ago, you passed up that chance to go to Borneo to help me. Do you remember what you said the night you turned it down?" He waited for the nod of confirmation. "You said that it was about friendship. I never told you how grateful I was that you stayed. I still didn't have control of my senses then, and if you had gone...man, I don't even want to think about it. But, Chief, think about everything we've learned since then. I haven't had a zone out in almost a year." 

The words hit Blair with the same impact as a slap to the face. He knew that Jim could hear his heartbeat pick up steam again as panic set in. Was this it, then? 'Thanks a lot, kid, but your services are no longer required or wanted.' 

Jim was not oblivious to the whipped puppy look on Blair's face. Damn, but he hated situations like this. He was a man of action, not words. Words were his roommate's forte, not his, but he couldn't afford to screw this up. Seeking to reassure the younger man, he spoke quickly as he brought up his free hand to Blair's other shoulder. "Please don't get me wrong, you will always be my Guide. I think we both know that I can do a lot on my own now, even though I will _always_ be stronger with you at my side. But God Blair, what kind of friend would I be if I let you throw away your career? Two years ago, you made a sacrifice to make sure I had a future. Now let me do the same for you." 

He stopped for a moment, observing Blair closely. Sure enough, the wounded look was gone, melting into one of uncertainty. "But," as the younger man began to speak, his voice cracked, forcing him to clear his throat. 

Not finished with his arguments, Jim took advantage of the pause to continue. "Do you realize that you are _the_ single most important person in my life, Chief? No one, and I mean _no one_ has ever known me as well as you do. Do you think that distance is going to change that? It doesn't matter whether you're ten miles away or ten thousand, you are always going to be the best friend that I have ever had." 

As the words hit home, Jim realized that he must have got them right. He watched as Blair's smoky blue eyes filled with tears and couldn't stop himself from gathering his Guide into his arms. Neither one of them was aware of how long they stayed that way, but it was long enough for Blair's silent tears to soak through Jim's dress shirt. The Sentinel gently rocked as he rubbed his Guide's back, the actions soothing both of them. 

Finally, Blair spoke from within the embrace, his shaky voice muffled by the large chest in front of him. "Jim, I..." he began huskily, his emotions bared in the tone of his voice. 

The older man interrupted him. "I know, Blair," he said as he squeezed the younger man in his arms tightly. 

* * *

**PRESENT NIGHT**

//More than words to show you feel   
That your love for me is real// 

A sudden change in the glass reflection caught Blair's attention. Gods, the memory of that night never failed to bring a brilliant smile to his face. That conversation was probably the most important that he had ever had with anyone in his whole life. It had sustained him through the difficult months that had followed. 

* * *

**TWO MONTHS EARLIER**

If he ever had to look at another resume, it would be too soon. Of the hundred or so of the damn things he had mailed out, he had received 90 rejection letters, 10 first round interview invitations, 3 second round, and 2 job offers. Both of the colleges interested in him were mid-sized, but one was in Michigan and the other in Maine. What was it with him and cold climates? 

While he was weighing his options, a strange occurrence happened. Steven Ellison called and invited him over to dinner to meet an acquaintance. Curious, Blair accepted the invitation, but Jim had been forced to decline due to a current investigation. He was shocked to discover that the mystery guest was Bernard White, Chancellor of Eastern Virginia College. A smaller school, it was known for it's beautiful location, liberal policies, and for the well rounded students it turned out. 

Once the introductions had been accomplished and the awkward 'getting acclimated' pauses had begun to die down, Steven stepped back from the conversation, only contributing when he thought it was needed. He had met the Bernard through his work, the giant conglomerate that employed him donated to many universities and colleges. Although you couldn't tell by looking at him, Chancellor White was in his late sixties. A sport nut, he had a wicked sense of humor, an endless supply of energy, and a great love of teaching. Steven couldn't help but think of the man as an older version of Blair. 

With so much in common, the pre-meal small talk was fast and funny. Over dinner the two men began discussing the US educational system, pointing out strengths and weaknesses, carefully debating the points they disagreed upon. As the meal progressed, the topics became more opinionated and heated. Steven worried that Blair would end up insulting Bernard with his more controversial trains of thought. 

However, as a businessman, Steven was used to pussyfooting around dangerous topics. As open-minded educators, the two Ph.D.'s reveled in the debate. While Steven cleared the table, they moved to the living room for an after dinner drink. Bernard took advantage of the privacy to talk to Blair about why he was here. 

"I can't remember the last time I had such a wonderful discussion. That's the problem with being in charge, you tend to get comfortable with so many people kissing your ass all the time. Look, Dr. Sandburg, I'll be honest here. I wanted to meet you because I have an offer for you." 

The anthropologist sat back in his chair, his attention solely on the man before him. "What kind of offer?" he asked. 

"After I met Steven, he told me a bit about you and about your Sentinel research. I hope you don't mind, but he managed to get a copy of your dissertation and passed it along to me. Although it is a little out of my area of expertise, I found it fascinating." 

Stunned beyond words, Blair managed to croak out a thank you. 

Bernard continued. "Our anthro department is mounting an expedition to Indonesia in December, and we are going to be short handed. I would like you to fly out to Virginia next week and meet the Department Chair, Lou Reisen. Take a look at what we have to offer. I think that you would be the ideal candidate for the open Associate Professor position." 

"I don't know what to say. I would love to." Although he was flattered by the offer, Blair's happiness was offset by the distance between Virginia and Cascade, or more importantly from Jim. 

Steven had finished with the dishes and had joined the two men in the living room. He knew Blair well enough to realize that the anthropologist had some doubts about the offer, otherwise they would have been peeling him off the ceiling from his enthusiasm. Time to play the trump card. 

"Bernard, tell him the rest," Steven prompted as he sat down on the couch. 

"There's more?" Blair inquired. 

The Chancellor stood, reaching in his pocket to fish out his wallet. "I want you to know that this is totally unrelated to the Associate's position," Bernard stated. Unfolding the billfold, he removed a picture and handed it to Blair. He accepted it, gazing at a plain dark haired young woman wearing an East Virginia sweatshirt. 

"Her name is Sabra Lowstein. She is a nineteen year old freshman at EVC studying to be a forest ranger. When Sabra was thirteen, she got lost in the woods while camping with her family. She was missing for sixteen days. When they found her, she complained about hearing voices, the brightness of the artificial lights, that sort of thing. At first the doctors diagnosed it as post traumatic stress syndrome. But a few months later, she began to have catatonic episodes. Sabra went to dozens of experts and none of them could agree on what was wrong with her. Epilepsy, schizophrenia, you name it." 

It was easy for Blair to see where Bernard was headed with this. "And you think she might be a Sentinel?" he asked as he cocked an eyebrow. 

With an affirmative nod, he responded. "I don't know, I'm not the expert here, Dr. Sandburg. When I read your dissertation, the zone out thing just seemed to ring a little familiar to me. Anyway, I would really like for you to meet with her." 

The statement peaked Blair's curiosity. In his experience, most Chancellors could barely remember the names of the people on their own staff, let alone a freshman student. "You know a lot about this girl, Dr. White. What is her connection to you?" 

The older man was pleased with Blair's observational skills. "Very good, Dr. Sandburg. Sabra is my granddaughter." 

Taking a deep breath, Blair spoke again, his euphoria at finding another Sentinel candidate quite evident as he stood and began moving restlessly through the room. "Well, from what you tell me, it does sound like a definite possibility. I would have to meet her, do a few tests, that kind of thing." 

Suddenly, he stopped pacing. 'But what if she isn't a Sentinel? There goes the job prospect.' 

As if reading his thought, Bernard spoke again. "As I said before Dr. Sandburg, the two offers are not mutually exclusive. Believe it or not, I have very little say over the hiring process of staff. It is our policy to leave that up to the individual departments." 

'Yeah, right.' Blair thought to himself as Bernard stood to take his leave. The Chancellor handed his card to Blair. "I have your number from Steven, I'll have my secretary call you with the arrangements." With handshakes to both men, he departed. 

Wanting to discuss the evening with Jim, Blair grabbed his own coat. It hit him suddenly that White must have read his complete dissertation, not just the upcoming article in order to know about zone outs. There was only one source that Steven could have used to get a copy of Blair's dissertation. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You and Jim set this up, didn't you?" he asked. 

The younger Ellison grinned guiltily. "I told Jim that Bernard was interested in seeing some of your work. He gave me copies of everything he could find." 

At first the anthropologist was angry. What, did Jim think he wasn't capable of finding a job on his own? Was he in that much of a hurry to get him out of the loft? Jesus, as if the Blessed Protector bit wasn't oppressive enough with police work, now the Sentinel was going to pull it in the world of academia as well. 

Blair's ever expressive face betrayed his emotions to Steven. "Blair, don't be mad. This is a great opportunity for you, and we just wanted to help." 

It took a minute for the words to break though the anger he was feeling. Once again, Jim had been able to pull his butt out of a difficult situation, albeit with a little help this time. Blessed Protector, indeed. 

* * *

The next two weeks had flown by. Blair had fallen in love with the campus the minute he had arrived. Settled in the hills of Virginia, the landscape reminded him somewhat of the Pacific Northwest. He had met with Dr. Reisen and for several hours they discussed his previous studies, his thesis, and anthropology in general. The job offer had come the following afternoon before his meeting with Sabra. 

Sabra Lowstein was a calm, quiet girl. She spoke little and had a difficult time relating to other people until she got to know them. The paradox was that her shyness tended to keep other people at a distance, leaving her with very few close friends. It was only one of the things about her that reminded him of Jim. 

After several days of testing, Blair was able to determine that she had four enhanced senses, her level of touch was normal. Still, even after six years of dealing with her abilities, it was difficult for her to control sensory imputs. Over time she had developed natural defenses, some good, some bad. Blair spent the remainder of his week making living arrangements and helping Sabra establish the mental dials that had worked so well for Jim. 

Despite his elation at finding not only a job, but a new test subject, a feeling of depression began to creep over him. 

* * *

Upon returning to Cascade, his first stop had been the precinct. Jim was out talking to one of his snitches, so the anthropologist took the opportunity to talk to Simon without being overheard by the Sentinel. The Captain was thrilled for the younger man, but at the same time felt saddened by the reality that he would, in fact, no longer be a presence in Major Crimes. Despite his lack of formal police training, Blair had spent three years giving genuine assistance on official cases. Unprepared for the world of police work, the younger man had endured the scorn from other officers; he had seen the darkest side of human nature; and had received so many injuries that the Captain winced at the thought. How ever it had started, he continued to do it because of a devotion to Jim Ellison. Three years ago, Simon would have never been able to envision the kind of friendship the two now shared. He never would have guessed that the begrudging respect he had felt for Blair would somehow turn into genuine affection. However, Simon did his best to cover the fact, aware that if Blair knew that he actually cared, the anthropologist would walk over him like a carpet. 

"You've got to get him a partner, Simon. Whoever it is will have to be told about the Sentinel stuff and they'll have to learn how to guide him," Blair insisted. 

"I know, Sandburg. I've got a short list of candidates, but in the end, it will have to be Jim's decision." 

"Come on, Simon. That is like so not cool. You know as well as I do, if you leave this decision up to Jim, he's going to play it out, man. He'll delay and postpone and in the meantime keep working by himself." 

"You aren't telling me anything I don't already know, Sandburg." 

When broached with the subject, Jim did exactly what Blair had predicted he would. Blair and Simon conspired, plotted, demanded, insisted, and finally begged, until the Sentinel finally agreed to take Brian Rafe as his partner. Rafe had been skeptical at first of the other detective's enhanced senses, but quickly found out why Jim and Blair had such a high conviction rate. The three men worked together closely to be prepared for Blair's departure. Rafe studied Blair's dissertation, often requiring the younger man to translate huge portions of anthropological techno-speak into plain English. Sentinel and Guide repeated hundreds of earlier tests in his presence so that Rafe could gain a better understanding of Jim's abilities. In a few weeks, all three were somewhat more comfortable with the new situation. 

As the date for Blair's departure grew closer, the anthropologist was not able to spend as much of his time helping Jim with his cases. It was just as well, it allowed the new partners to acclimate themselves to each other within the confines of police work. It was also when Jim began experiencing zone outs again. 

* * *

**PRESENT NIGHT**

//What would you say, if I took those words away  
Then you couldn't make things new just by saying 'I love you'// 

The weather was picking up outside. Turning his glance away from his own reflection, Blair watched gusts of wind churn the gentle waves in the bay into small whitecaps. The haunting sounds of the two guitars finally brought his feeling of depression to a head. Blair could feel his throat tighten as tears began to gather in his eyes. Somewhat disgusted with himself, he wondered why it had happened so much as of late. 'I've cried more in the past six months than in the past three years. Of course I have, for three years, this was my _home_...' he thought to himself. 

* * *

**THREE WEEKS EARLIER**

"Jesus, man? What in the hell is up with you? It's been over a year! I thought you were over this," Blair raged at the man in the hospital bed. Jim had zoned in the middle of a shoot out. Rafe had seen it happening and tackled the older man to the ground. The impact had given the Sentinel a mild concussion requiring the requisite overnight stay in the hospital. 

Now Blair was here, upset that his departure might somehow contribute to a more dangerous zone out in the future. "Calm down, Chief. It was an accident, Rafe knew what was happening and pulled me out of it." Jim said to reassure the hyperactive man pacing beside his bed. 

Smoky blue eyes grew darker with anger. "Not soon enough, man." 

"Cut him some slack, Sandburg. He's new to all of this. I seem to recall some pretty close calls when we first started working together," Jim shot back. 

With a heavy sigh, Blair conceded the point. Suddenly he chuckled softly. "What is it with you and head injuries, anyway?" 

Jim laughed along, glad for the change of subject. Secretly, he was afraid that Blair would discover that this had not been an isolated incident. Rafe had been pulling him out of small zone outs all week. 

The random comment about his injuries was forgotten as Blair looked at him sharply. "What?" Jim asked. 

"So what did you zone out on?" his Guide queried. 

"Sound. Uhm, I thought I heard another heartbeat on the roof," the Sentinel lied, praying that Blair wouldn't catch it. In fact, Jim had reflexively sought out Blair's heartbeat, forgetting momentarily that his partner was now Rafe. He had strained so hard to hear the familiar sound, one always so close to him in times of danger, that he had lost touch with everything else. Jim never felt the blow to his head as Rafe dragged him to the ground, or his new partner calling him back to reality. Eventually, Rafe had pulled him out of it, but it had taken longer because Jim was listening for Blair's voice. 

The Sentinel gazed softly at his Guide. Using his senses, Jim was able to pick up the small shivers running through the younger man's body. "You okay, Chief?" 

Blair drew a deep shaky breath to drive back the tears that overwhelmed him. It still terrified him that something would happen to Jim, and he wouldn't be there to help him. Blair moved forward and placed a hand on Jim's arm. "When Simon called, he didn't have many details, and I...I'm just glad you're all right. You...I..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. Rather than try to speak, he wrapped his arms around Jim and held on tight. With the feeling of Jim's arms moving to return the embrace, all of Blair's doubts and worries were chased away. 

* * *

**PRESENT NIGHT**

He was still looking at the water when he was startled by two hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Blair knew without uncertainty that it was his roommate, so he kept his gaze where it was. 

//Now that I've tried to talk to you and make you understand  
All you have to do is close your eyes and just reach out your hands// 

As the soft words penetrated the silence, Jim's grasp reflexively tightened. The movement was reassuring to Blair, and suddenly he felt six months of pent up tension wash away from his body. 

//And touch me, hold me close don't ever let me go  
More than words is all I ever needed you to show  
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me  
Cause I'd already know// 

Finally, Blair lowered his eyes to the ghostly reflection in the glass. The picture that greeted him brought a smile to his face. 

End 


End file.
